Before This Dance Ends
by soavezefiretto
Summary: Angel&Willow vignette. Slightly AU for S3 The Prom. Angel says goodbye and asks for a favor... Please r&r.


Disclaimer: Don't own, never have. Don't sue, just playing.

Summary: "The Prom", Angel says goodbye to Willow. This is a plotless vignette. A little dialogue, character interaction, nothing more.

A/N: I haven't actually seen S3. I _do_ know that prior to the prom dance Buffy and Angel have this talk and he decides to break up. I am leaving out the whole Ascension/Mayor deal, and am assuming that they decided to do this together after all, i.e., Buffy gets to walk him to the bus station and stuff.

This is not an "Angel and Willow get sexy" thing. It's pretty much canon. I just liked their dynamic (whenever they had one) in S2, and wanted them to have this little talk.

Feedback: Oh, definitely. Just don't give me any "but that isn't the way it happened". I know it isn't. That's why we write fanfiction. Because it didn't happen, but we want it to. – Other than that, bring it on. Hate it, love it, was bored out of my skull. Although, this is basically just a small exercise in dialogue, so remarks like "but it doesn't have any plot!" won't really do anything for me. I already know.

For the record: English is not my native language. This is not betaed.

Before this dance ends

by

soavezefiretto

1.

They dance. It is their last dance, the last time they touch in this way, they both know it. The sweetness and agony of the moment are almost unbearable. But still they dance, dance, dance.

The music stops. Only a few seconds of quiet murmur, clinking of glasses, a high-pitched giggle, then another song starts, the music rises again. It is getting late, there is not much interchanging of dance-partners. By now, everyone has found the one they want to spend these last few minutes with, the one whose hand they will take to step out into the fragrant night.

Angel is holding Buffy's hand. Her eyes are asking "Is it time? So soon?" Oddly hesitant, he says:

"Buffy, I – there's… there's something I need to… take care of. I won't be long."

Instinctively, she grabs his arm. She doesn't know that she is leaving five small, purple marks. He will cherish them, later, and press his own fingers on them, just so, to make them last for as long as possible. But they will fade, of course. In time.

He puts his free hand on her arm gently.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, ok? We can go to the station then."

Buffy releases his arm.

"Sorry. Am I overdoing the clingyness?"

Angel smiles.

"Not very much."

"Liar. Ok, go, go, do manly secret things. I'll stay here and play with my little umbrella. See? It opens and closes, just like a real one."

She needs this, he knows. Light chit-chat, jokes. Pretend they are at a prom dance. Hear her own voice, reassure herself that it is still there, the voice, the hands, the eyes, that she is more than this heavy heart that is being torn apart. He lets his hand rest on her arm a few moments longer, then turns and scans the room. Xander is standing beside one of the tables with Giles. They are both holding little cups and looking extremely bored.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Always the wariness, the coldness in his voice. With no one does Xander's voice get as hard as this. There is steel in it, Angel thinks. Good.

"Have you seen Willow?"

"Uh… nope. She was here, but now… she isn't? I'm guessing she using the little girls' room?"

Always the edge of suspicion. Good, good. Suspicion is always useful on the Hellmouth.

"Thanks."

Angel is about to leave them, but then turns around. Might as well do this properly.

"Listen, Xander – I know you don't like me. Never have, never will. Which means that you're more intelligent than you like to appear. I just… wanted you to know that I – appreciate you. You're brave and honest and loyal. I don't know if we ever could have been friends. I wish we'd had a chance to try. But you're Buffy's friend, and I'm thankful for that. I know that you will continue to stand by her side, no matter what."

"Yeah, you bet," Xander snaps belligerently, though vaguely conscious of the fact that there is nothing to be belligerent about. Angel is actually being friendly – or is he? He has already turned to Giles, hasn't heard Xander's reply, or has chosen not to.

"I know you both will."

Giles holds Angel's gaze for a long moment, then, on a sudden impulse, offers him his hand. He knows he will not see him for a long time, maybe never again, and wants to say something, a word of goodbye. But to his surprise he finds himself choking, cannot speak.

Angel shakes Giles hand and says:" You're a good watcher." Then he turns and walks away toward the exit.

"Ok, weirdness much? What was that all about?"

But Giles isn't looking at Xander, he's looking across the room, where Buffy is leaning against a wall, opening and closing her little golden umbrella, open-close, open-close, open-close…

From the table where he was speaking with Xander and Giles, Angel has spotted a slight redheaded figure slipping out of one of the side-doors. There's a good chance she's with Oz, but Angel has to take his chances now. Please let her be alone, he thinks incoherently. For a moment, he has even forgotten why it is so important. He just knows that it is.

2.

She is alone. Just standing there in the starlight, looking up.

"Hi."

Willow jumps and gives a little scream. Angel steps out of the shadow of the wall.

"Sorry."

"Oh, Angel – hi. It's ok, I just have this thing where people that step out of the shadows really scare me. I always think they might bite me or something."

"I wonder where you get those ideas."

"I read too much."

"Me too."

"Really? Did you read the Narnia books when you where little? Because I read them about a dozen times when I was eight, and … you where already 200 and something when I was eight, ok, you can slap me now. But, not too hard. The slapping, I mean."

He smiles.

"No slapping. What I meant was, I read a lot too. Not as a child though. And yes, I read the Narnia books. I liked them."

She beams. That there should be a person in Sunnydale, on this world, that can still beam like that. Who can beam like that at _him_.

"Listen, Willow, I was… I wanted to talk to you."

Now she has her serious face. The serious face that, with Willow, always means "Let me help. Let me try and make your burden lighter." Oh, if only you could, my little Willow!

She also seems a little scared, like almost always. It's as if she was that much wiser than the rest of them. She knows that life is at its scariest when nothing at all is happening. Terror doesn't have fangs. It tears at you out of thin air.

"I'm – going away. I'm leaving Sunnydale tonight."

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"L.A., first. Then, I don't know."

"But, why? I mean, are you on a secret mission or something? Is there some stuff you have to bury somewhere in Asia, like that time with the Judge? Why didn't Giles tell us, or Buffy?"

"No – secret mission. I just – have to leave."

"Oh." A shadow creeps over her face. It is closed now, harder even than Xander's a while ago. "It's because of Buffy, right?"

"We can't live like this," he says simply.

"But she loves you. And you love her."

"I will kill her."

"No! Nothing will happen! We just have to be careful, have to make sure, that, well, you… you know…"

"That I am never happy? Forget about the sex, Willow, what kind of a life do you think that is for her? With a man she knows will never be completely happy by her side, a man that can't do what he desires most, who can't give her his soul because if he does he loses it? She's only 18, Willow! She is the Slayer. She has too many responsibilities already, she has seen and done and suffered too much. She shouldn't have to suffer anymore because of me."

"And you think she wouldn't suffer if you leave her? It will kill her! If you do that, you self-complacent son of a bitch, I swear I'll curse you in ways that will make this soul of yours seem like a nice carousel ride on a Sunday morning!"

Angel doesn't know if it's a shudder or a smile he is repressing. Probably both.

"I'm not leaving her, Willow, not like that! We've talked about it. She knows. We're going to the bus station together after the dance."

"Oh. Well, then, I guess I should take back the whole 'self-complacent son of a bitch' thing."

"Don't. It fits me well enough most of the time."

"Oh, Angel…"

"No, listen, that's why I came. I… before leaving, I wanted to thank you. You've always been honest to me, told me the truths I didn't want to hear. But you've also accepted me. None of the others have been able to do that."

"Buffy loves you." This time it's a simple statement, as in "Why do things fall on the ground if you drop them? Because there's gravity." Buffy loves you, so I accept you.

"Yes." They stand side by side for a minute. Then Angel says:

"I guess I'd better say goodbye now. We aren't telling any of the others, they'll find out I'm gone soon enough. I wanted to spare them from having to look like they are sorry," he makes a gesture with his hand as if to wipe away the protest she is about to utter, "but you – I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to you. This is probably presumptuous of me, but I have always considered you – a friend."

This last word he says hesitantly, almost in a whisper. Willow steps forward, reaches out as if to touch him.

"Of course you are! You are the scary, 200-and-some-year-old vampire with a soul friend that every girl needs in her life. Ok, that didn't come out exactly the way it sounded in my head…"

He stands, hands in his pockets. In his tuxedo, shuffling a little, slightly embarrassed but more amused, he could be a college boy. He could be so many things… He was a rich man's good-for-nothing son, he was a cruel murderer, he was a penitent. Then, for a short time, he was a lover. And now he's to become – what?

Willow feels a tenderness and sorrow so powerful wash over her, like nothing she has ever felt before. She takes that final step, takes his hand into her small one.

"You are. You are my friend. I have learned so much from you… and I'm very, very sorry that you're leaving. And not just for Buffy."

"Thank you." Again, he speaks in a very small voice. It doesn't sound like Angel at all. Then he looks up.

"I need a favour."

"Anything!"

"Like I said, I'm taking the bus to L.A. I think I'll stay there for a while, though I have no idea where exactly, or what I'll be doing. The thing is – I've decided not to let Buffy know."

"Does she know this?"

"She – well, I haven't told her in so many words, but, yes, she knows."

Her small face is twisting, tears are streaming down her cheeks.

"I want her to have a real chance at happiness, Willow. I wouldn't be doing her a favour if I kept in touch."

"I understand. It's just – so sad – that it couldn't – work out for you guys."

Now she's struggling to control her sobs and failing miserably.

"It's all right. We had what we had. It's more than many people have. It will be enough."

Willow nods, sniffles a little.

"So, what's the favour?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, that I don't want to keep in touch with Buffy doesn't mean that, well, I don't want to keep in touch. Know how she is, how things are going. I wanted to ask you if you'd be, like, my contact person in Sunnydale."

"Yay, contact person! But, uh, wouldn't it be, well, painful for you?"

"I am meant to be in pain, Willow. She is not."

"But you're not…"

"Yes I am. Yes I am!" He almost snarls this. Willow takes a step back. He looks away for a couple of seconds.

"Look, I am not doing this because I am a self-complacent son of a bitch who likes to wallow in his misery. This is still the Hellmouth and she is still the Slayer. If anything happens, if she – you – any of you need my help… I need to leave her. That doesn't mean I will abandon her. You understand?"

"Yes."

"So, I'll send you my address as soon as I have one. You don't need to write me a weekly letter, you know, just the occasional 'everyone's alive' will do."

"And I can't tell anyone about this, not Giles, not Xander, and especially not Buffy, right?"

"I know you hate to lie to her, or any of your friends, but…"

"It's ok. I won't say anything."

"Ok. Thanks."

His face is drawn, as if after a terrible effort, his eyes huge.

"Well, goodbye then," she says, helpless.

"Goodbye." He bends down to kiss her cheek, then starts to walk away rapidly.

"Angel!" Willow shouts. Not like this, is all she can think, not like this…

He turns. Without thinking, she runs towards him and throws her arms around his neck. He holds her, first to keep them both from falling, then because he notices that her feet are not touching the ground. He can feel her hot tears against his skin. She is whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry". What are you sorry for, my little Willow, he wants to say. Then he understands. It's ok for her to be sorry. Maybe that's why he has come to her, to hear those words, the words that neither Buffy nor he can say anymore. Yes, it is indeed a sad, sad thing, and now he holds her to him and lets himself cry, and his tears mingle with hers. As they part he kisses her mouth once, twice. Then Angel steps back into the building, without looking back at Willow, standing under the starlight, looking up, almost exactly as he found her.


End file.
